Woman: Did you like it?
Man: (vigorously yet apologetically shakes his head)
Woman: Yeah. I hear you. I'm sorry. We should have seen Guardians again.

This review is the first to use a new format. Because that's what you do when something isn't working, Woody Allen. You grow from it. You learn from it. And then your product will get better.

I'm going to be honest. I'm not a Woody Allen fan. I don't appreciate his history as a human being, and I don't appreciate his recent remarks on not casting black actors. However, I sat through his last movie, Midnight in Paris, to see what I was missing.

Unfortunately, I didn't find much to miss.

I was forced to watch Magic in the Moonlight, although there was a boycott on this film for the director's blatant and racist disclusion of POCs. Someone else paid for it, and I still felt absolute dirty guilt as I sat through the 90 minutes of white people doing white things.

The question then becomes: can a movie be separated from the artist? Can we enjoy a piece of art when the creator obviously has some beliefs issues? It is a question we come up against with Ender's Game, and it surfaces once more with Woody Allen.

I think the answer to this hard question is twofold. First, we have the question of royalties and money. Because I went to see this movie, Woody Allen made money. Did he make a bunch of money? No. But he still made something. By seeing art made by artists we don't wish to support, we support the artist. This becomes difficult when the artist's work is amazing and awe-inspiring and does some good in the world, although the artist himself does not do these things outside of the art's world.

But what if the piece itself is harmful? What if the piece itself is just no good? This is the second portion of the answer. If the piece itself has hateful or inclusive issues, then do we forget how there are other good parts to the piece? And do we go into the experience too biased to come to an honest conclusion?

Magic in the Moonlight does not have anything sinister in it, except for the fact that there is still an elephant missing oh my GOD where did the elephant go?! But beyond the magic elephant, to the naked eye, no racist words are uttered, no violent propaganda or improper romantic this and thats are had. It's a pretty boring movie about rich white people doing stupid rich white people things. In the midst of their richness and elitism is a story about a man who is trying to decide if the world runs on science or magic.

But see, that's the problem. This movie is not seen as wrong. The first five minutes of the film is Colin Firth in yellow face pretending to be a magician named Wae Ling Soo.

What?

We then move on with Emma Stone calling Colin Firth from the Orient and acting as a Chinese. No one ever points out that Firth was in yellow face, and he is the only thing close to a non-white person we see. In fact, the Other in this film is pretty little waify Emma Stone and her mother, because they're American and poor and from Kalamazoo.

This would be fine because it fits the time and the story, but only if the author knew this was wrong.

So can we really pull away from the narrator or the writer? As writers, aren't we the least bit responsible for social awareness? Why can't Woody Allen point out that perhaps all of these people are rather silly and rather pampered and you can tell something about Firth's character because he dresses as "a Chinese?"

I don't have the answers. I only have a lot of questions.

The movie itself, morality aside, is not worth the trouble. Firth and Stone are both brilliant actors, but they are so enamored with Woody Allen being the director that they act like anyone else who has been to the Woody Allen School of Acting in One of Woody Allen's Films. They speak quickly, punching the script and not their character. They move like puppets or pawns being moved around a chess board. At one point, when Firth must make a proposal, he nearly gets to breathe as a professional performer, but the script moves too fast and he loses his chance for freedom from the puppet master.

Is it fair to call him a puppet master? Perhaps I'm being too partial.

The story has been done before. You know immediately what is going to happen. The ending would have been cute a hundred and fifty years ago when Wilde and Shaw were still hot and new. Unfortunately, the world has moved forward and developed from where we were. Woody Allen still uses a typewriter and doesn't believe in the internet.

I give this movie a C-. If you enjoy Woody Allen, I would be curious to hear what you have to say, or if I'm right in believing that this was not a stroke of genius. If you like spiritual movies, you will not like this movie. If you like rich white people with parasols playing ukeleles, driving in fancy cars, and sunbathing on the beaches of Southern France, you are in for a treat.

"Wait, we have to wait for after the credits! It's a Marvel movie."
(five minutes later)
"Wait, what?"

Peter Quill is kidnapped from earth the night his mother dies back in 1988. His mother leaves him two things pivotal to the plot: a mix-tape of her favorite 70's songs, and a need to hold females' hands.

Twenty years later, Peter Quill has grown into Chris Pratt, who is your typical Han Solo-esque scavenger for hire. He accidentally comes across an orb that is wanted by the bad guys, and off he is on his adventure. Following along is Zoe Saldana, Bradley Cooper as a pissed off raccoon, and Vin Diesel as The Iron Giant Redux ... I mean, Groot. He is Groot. We are all Groot, actually.

It's difficult, really, to explain how much I appreciate this movie and how much frustration I have with this movie. As someone who is a hardcore space opera fan (and writer), I will openly say I don't think this was the strongest story I've seen done in this genre. I do still believe A New Hope and the Firefly series did it better and clearer. However, it was so much better than it could have been.

There is one scene that encompasses my feelings for this movie. All of the characters sit around, hemming and hawing over whether or not they're going to "do the thing" or "not do the thing." The discussion goes on for so long, I actually spaced out in the middle of a space opera. However, the movie knows what cliche ground its treads. All of the heroes stand up one by one, pledging to "do the thing." Finally, Rocket Raccoon stands up and says, "There. Now I'm standing, too. Are you happy? We're all a bunch of jackasses standing in a circle."

It's self-aware and breaks cliches, just not as well as Whedon did in both Avengers and Firefly. Rocket doesn't meet the expectations of Hulk smashing Loki mid-monologue, nor does it live up to the memories of Mal Reynolds throwing a thug into his ship's turbine when the thug threatens the crew.

Beyond that, Chris Pratt's Quill is a well written character, but his bigotry toward women and his wavering character arch isn't enough to allow him to stand as a grown, fleshed out character. Perhaps that's part of his arch, that he is a boy as of right now, but I really wanted to like him as much as I like Andy Dwyer. Or hell, as much as I like Luke Skywalker or Chris Pine's Kirk. Luke's obsession with Leia in the first film comes off as kiddish, and we expect chauvinism from James Kirk. Quill is supposed to be a good, decent Southern boy. And yet he has a whole scene dedicated to showing off the literal scars left by women to whom he done wrong.

The other characters, Drax excluded, also felt like we'd seen them before. Groot was the Iron Giant, Rocket was Tony Stark and Jayne the Hero of Canton. Even Saldana's green lady felt like a less assertive version of Uhura. Perhaps the comics were a breakthrough, but we're coming up on 2014. It's kind of like trying to be surprised by The Lord of the Rings movies after decades of riffs from the original source material.

As for the plot, it was winding, complicated, and had way too many moving parts.

If you're a writer looking to study space adventures, this is a nice beginning, but please go watch Firefly. And then watch the first three Star Wars films. Then pick up some Ray Bradbury and read that to round it out. This is a good door opener, but the world is still in need of a real meaty epic in space.

Gamora is a lethal assassin, but that doesn't mean her neckline has to be anything but boob-tastic. The other girls are seen as slaves, servants, and forgotten one night stands. Oh, unless you count the mom, and then they're also seen as weak, wispy cancer patients on their death beds.

While it could have been worse, it did not pass the Bechdel test. While some male characters like Quill and Rocket are a softer sort of emotional male, there's just not much in the way of ladies. We do have Glen Close playing the head of an entire race, but she's in literally two scenes.

I will say, that Gamora's sister the cyborg was amazing and I would argue more ruthless than her male counterparts. But to say that Gamora is the lead in this movie is not seeing Quill for what he is and not giving an honest look as to who does what. While you watch this film, you decide for yourself who the "hero" is. Gamora is a hero, but Pratt is the protagonist.

This is all so very surprising, since the head writer was a woman. Although the director, James Gunn, was said to have had last say. And Gunn was the one who said Pratt shouldn't play Quill because he was "fat."

I would say that boys are gonna like this one. I would also say that space adventure fans will adore it, although please don't think it's the Star Wars of our generation. I was told that before going in, and it is not. Which I think accounts for my disappointment. I also believe that people who see themselves as outcasts will find a special place for Guardians in their hearts.

I also would recommend this to anyone who has lost someone lately, especially a parent. When you see it, you'll understand, but it is a therapeutic exercise to watch while you're trying to make sense of close death.

THE MOVIE ITSELF: The movie is a good movie, I'm not going to cheat it out of that praise. Is it the game changer we've been waiting for in the sci fi community? No. But is it better than Thor and The Phantom Menace? Yes. Do they do the comic justice? Of course. We're not talking about a Watchmen situation here. The special effects are wonderful, although Rocket doesn't really compare to Caesar in Apes. The acting is great. The script is funny. But it does lack that special legendary umph factor. A-

ENJOYMENT FACTOR: A lot of fun for everyone. There's the talking raccoon for kids, the romance, the heroics, the grief, the comedy. It's all here. Everyone involved had a good time. Just don't ruin it by waiting around after the credits. A-

VERDICT: Go see it. Go enjoy it. And then go home and write that game changing space opera. Please. I want to see it. A-

"So ... they take over, right? The apes?"

We pick up ten years after James Franco and the virus. Caesar has a mate and two sons. The eldest son, Blue Eyes, is a sensitive little chimp who wants to do right by his dad. Unfortunately, he starts to feel like his dad is not doing right by him.

Because enter the humans! Malcolm heads up his son and partner in a small expedition to go to the dam on the other side of the ape encampment and start up power for the Gary Oldman-led tribe of virus-resistant humans hanging out at the train station village in San Francisco. Caesar wants to help, even to the detriment and safety of his family and home. Koba, on the other hand, has other plans.

This movie is as ridiculous as that poster. The ape rides the horse, holding a gun as the Golden Gate Bridge burns in the background. They just tried so hard, guys. So very hard.

The difficult thing about writing spec fic or science fiction, is that you as a writer are writing an outlandish thing happening in the very real world. Crafted science fiction allows you to suspend belief and follow the story like it all happened and it's all as plausible as George Washington and World War II (although ... not George Washington in World War II, because that would be spec fic). However, there were so many times that I felt the world was shoved at us or stretched to look cool for posters (see above), and I was taken out of the movie in those moments.

There was also a challenge in starting the movie ten years after the end of the last movie. Info dumping was abound as the writers tried to fill in the holes. There were whole scenes dedicated to info dumping, where the humans sat in the car and did everything but stare right at the camera as they threw out world-building factoids, like how the woman worked for the CDC, or how the virus worked, or how long they had been without power.

One thing they did do well was Caesar's character arch. But I don't know how much of that was the writing, and how much of that was Andy Serkis being awesome.

Not much here, gals. It does not pass the Bechdel test. We have two mother characters, one ape and one human, but even they don't have much overlay. One spends her time being sick and the other one spends her time taking care of her adopted son and partner. It was an ape versus white man story, and it stuck to the franchise's tradition of not having much to do with anyone else.

As for POCs, we have one dominant black character in the whole ordeal. I just kept looking at Malcolm, who was white, and thinking how cool it would have been if he had not been white. Instead, we get one black man in the entire group of dam-seekers whose main line was, "You shut up before I kick your ass."

I don't think the rest of this series will change much in this regard.

If you like apes riding horses and shooting off never-empty guns at Gary Oldman, then this is the show for you! I would also recommend it to visual arts students, because holy lord those apes are cool looking.

THE MOVIE ITSELF: I appreciate its visual effects. If everything else failed in this story, the visual effects soared above anything you've ever seen. Caesar is gorgeously done and more human than most of the human actors. Koba moves so fluidly. Blue Eyes told a coming-of-age story through full computerized effects. It was just beautiful. Other than that, I give it one of Koba's raspberries. B-

ENJOYMENT FACTOR: I'm glad I saw it, but it was just too damn long with too little to it. We all know how this is going to end, and there are no surprises. The apes will come out victorious, the humans will slink into slavery, and Caesar will die as his teachings are corrupted by Tim Roth. We know. We get it. Apes. C

VERDICT: If you like the series, go for it. Otherwise, maybe go see it as a matinee when you're really bored on a "sick day." C+

(Clap clap clap!)
Person: Oh ... we're not clapping.

Three boys live in a Nevada neighborhood that is about to get torn apart for a freeway. These boys are Tuck, Alex, and Munch. Tuck is a budding filmmaker and Youtuber, Alex is a foster kid, and Munch shows signs of Asperger's. They're best friends who have looked out for one another, and now they want to spend one more night having boyish adventures.

Except their boyish adventures include following a signal (why is it always guys following a signal?) to a hunk of junk that suddenly bursts to life and introduces itself by whistling Alex's ringtone. He needs the kids' help to put his ship back together, and thus their adventure truly begins.

Echo was a good example of the up-and-coming multimedia storytelling. Tuck uses iTunes in order to score their conversations via Skype, and the whole thing is recorded on Youtube. Through these different mediums, we see a story arise.

However, this convention is broken as soon as Echo shoots to life. Echo brings with him a movie score, that immediately reminds us that we are not watching a kid's mismatched Youtube channel, but instead we are sitting in a theater with day-old popcorn.

There is also the question of protagonist. Who exactly is the protagonist in this story? We believe it's going to be Tuck, since he's the one with the camera and we're seeing it from his perspective. This made me excited, because Tuck is black. He isn't kind of black, in that way that white people will feel comfortable and can relate to him. He's just who he is, and so is his family. With Home coming soon to theaters with a black girl as the main character, I was excited to see this new trend of branching out to POC protagonists. You think this trend would have happened a long time ago and just become everyday use.

However, Tuck disappears behind the camera, leaving room for Alex to take the reins. Sometimes Tuck is neither behind the camera or in front of the camera, leaving Munch to get a story, Alex to get a story, and Tuck to return to react to his friends' stories. While Tuck has an arch, it is completely dependent on his friends' archs.

This disappointed me. However, one good thing the story did was focus on Alex's fear of abandonment and Munch's awkwardness. It was good to see a boy struggling with Asperger's not as the butt of a joke or as an outsider, but a hero.

Little boys can be heroes, too. That's their take-home message.

However, girls cannot.

I suppose they can, but they don't need names to do it. Or autonomy. Or respect.

Emma does have a name, but they barely use it. She's known as "Mannequin Girl" for the first half of the movie. She's beautiful, sweet, and poised. The first time we see her, she's approached by Tuck who is trying to prove that his new glasses are a chick magnet. Emma is enjoying lunch with her own friends when this random kid in weird glasses comes up to her and starts to try to talk. The expression she gives him isn't one of Regina George, but instead just confusion and a little annoyance that her meal and conversation has been interrupted by a strange unknown boy (she is literally in the middle of a sentence when he cuts her off). Because of this, he stumbles and feels stupid, and we're supposed to feel sorry for Tuck because Mannequin Girl didn't give a nerd like him the light of day.

Could it be that this is not Emma being a jerk, but Tuck feeling entitled to the trophy of prettiest girl's phone number, and because she gives him a weird look, he's emasculated in his adolescent growth? Come to think of it, Tuck doesn't even ask Emma for her number; he gets cold feet and mumbles that he needs a piece of paper.

The loving nickname Mannequin Girl comes from Munch saying she looks like a mannequin, and mannequins are beautiful.

Later on, these boys break into her room and mess with all of her stuff, and she's just supposed to be okay with it. She takes it better than me, and forces them to take her with them on their adventure. On this adventure, she falls in love with Alex. And thus she becomes the girlfriend.

Emma does not get a say in any of the storytelling. Tuck purposefully and violently cuts her footage out, fast forwarding and mocking her in a voiceover. What we do see is her saving Alex and her being "pretty," as Much and Tuck keep pointing out.

That was gross.

This is for young boys. My brother would love this movie. The kids play games on the computer together, they sneak behind their moms' backs, they are wonderfully awkward and trying to find some sort of voice in a world that gives no voice to children. This is for the Youtube generation. Unfortunately, I feel like the POCs and women in this film were not given a voice at all.

THE MOVIE ITSELF: The alien was cute. The effects were nice. The kids were good actors. It had a story and a message. Quaint and well put together. It's just unfortunate that E.T. did it better thirty years ago. B

ENJOYMENT FACTOR: It's a fun time at the movies, and Munch and the other two boys are adorable. But it's one of those movies where you think you like when it's done, and then it percolates and you realize you're never going to see it again. B-

VERDICT: A fun time with your little brother or child you nanny. If you are childless and know no boys around the age of twelve, then perhaps see it at the cheapees. B-